My Deer Jily
by DontKillMyVibe
Summary: When James' exult died down, he seemed to notice that I had come into his room. Voluntarily. A sly grin overtook his face. "Well, Lily," he said, grinning from ear to ear, "looks like you DO care about me."
1. Chapter 1

_My Deer Jily_

 ** **Chapter 1****

 ** **Lily's POV****

* * *

 _ _I don't want whatever I want. Nobody does. Not really. What kind of fun would it be if I just got everything I ever wanted just like that, and it didn't mean anything? What then? -Neil Gaiman__

* * *

I pulled my head out of my book as familiar voices approached my corridor. Soon, James Potter and Sirius Black came into view from around the corner, talking in low voices.

I sucked in my breath as he got closer. He must have sensed my presence by now, but unlike him, he didn't shoot a line at me or even glance in my direction. He kept his eyes fixed on Sirius. Ignoring me.

A year ago, I would have thanked the gods. Finally, Potter was leaving me be with my book! But as my dream played out in front of me, I realized that I didn't quite get the satisfaction I was hoping for.

As he passed me, he didn't say anything, but his wide brown eyes locked with my green. At that moment I registered the hardness in his usually jovial features.

He didn't change his expression and didn't look away from me as he and Sirius finished their walk down the passage.

James Potter had spent the last several years here at Hogwarts berating me senseless. I had spent WEEKS in my dormitory crafting up a perfect comeback to parry all of his suggestive remarks. I even practiced my delivery in my mirror, I recollected sheepishly to myself. And just as I'm given the perfect opportunity, with Sirius as a witness, he comes around the corner and __doesn't utter a single word__? Snubs me? It was almost embarrassing. My cheeks flushed.

I planned to avenge my humiliation over the years, and yet here I was, as equally red in the face as when James hung my pink knickers from a dripping candle in the Great Hall. What gives, Potter? I mentally cursed him as I snapped my book shut. I had thought I hated his taunts, but I realized just then that I hated being ignored more.

* * *

At dinner that night, I casually noted that neither James nor Sirius was present. It's not like I was on the lookout; I just made a simple, sharp Head Girl observation.

I was enveloped in a large embrace just as the dessert was charmed in from the kitchens. Remus Lupin, the Marauder I abhor least, released me and plopped down on the bench beside me, hungrily scooping some apple custard from the serving dishes and heaping it onto a plate.

"Whoa, slow down Loopy, it's not a race," Marcy Bracey said flirtatiously from across the table. Remus was polite enough to stifle his eye roll at the last second, which instead gave the impression of an awkward face twitch. I cracked a smile.

"You look like you haven't eaten in days," I said quietly, ruffling his shaggy hair and petting it down so it didn't stick up. It wasn't unclean, it just was messy. I'll bet he was taking lessons from James, with hair as wild as that. Which reminded me.

"Hey Remus, what's bothering Potter? He looked pretty ticked when I spotted him in the corridor earlier today."

He paused from his sweet for a microsecond, scanning my features with an incredulous look on his face.

The silence made the tips of my ears turn bright red. It probably blended really appealingly with my firetruck hair.

Finally, Marcy spoke up, her pert little nose turned slightly upward, as if she could sniff out a pending piece of juicy gossip. "Why would you care what's bothering Potter? I would have thought you'd be the first to congratulate whoever caused it."

"No reason," I mumbled hotly, looking down at my pastry. "I was just guessing why Lupin looks like he just escaped the Whomping Willow. Probably caught up in another one of Potter's stupid schemes to get into the girl's lavatory."

Lupin gave a yelp of mock betrayal, and I ruffled his hair before standing up. "I'm sleepy. I guess it's off to bed for me."

I was just outside the Great Hall doors when I felt a hand on my arm.

Remus spun me around to face him. "I didn't want to say anything with Marcy there, but don't blame James if he seems distant over the next couple of days, okay? We've been under a lot of stress lately. James especially. He -" Remus stopped himself.

I was intrigued. "He, WHAT, Remus?"

He seemed to be weighing his options. "I'm not sure if I'm the appropriate person to tell you."

I was about to push for more information, but speak of the devil and James and Sirius are guaranteed to walk around the corner.

"REMUS," Sirius said, rushing to his side with flourishing strides. "PLEASE tell me you stocked up on food for upstairs. I could eat a horse right now."

Remus awkwardly shifted his feet, and Sirius looked him up and down, registering his empty hands.

"Come __on__! Don't tell me we were too late for dinner! I finally convinced James to come down! The man needs food!" I mustered up the courage to peek at James for the first time, and could only find a slight trace of confidence left on his usual brazen features. His tan skin was pale, and his eyes were still intense, but murkier.

Meanwhile, Sirius finally acknowledged that I was present. He dropped to his knees in front of me, ready to display his perfected ass-kissery. He grabbed my hands and gave me clear, brown puppy eyes.

"Lils! Sweet, sweet Lils, do you think you could possibly be a darling and sneak into the kitchen to rack up on leftovers?"

I rolled my eyes and shook his hands off me. "And what do you suggest I do when the house elves catch me and turn me into Filch?"

He deftly matched his tone to my sardonic one. "Well, obviously, you won't GET caught, because you'll hide all the treats safely by stuffing them into your - "

"I'd love to stick around and CHAT," I interjected, cutting him off and glaring at him, "but I really must be going. Go be melancholy and hide things from me somewhere else."

I turned my back on them to head up to my room, but I felt pulled back just as I had spun my heel.

It was James.

He shifted his eyes when he spoke. "I want to talk to you."

I swallowed, and my heart beat just a tad faster. My heart rate always quickened around him, but that was normally a reflex to dodge a charm that he could send my way.

But no. This was different. And I could sense that no was not an option. I yielded and followed him down the hall, escaping the gaping eyes of the Marauders and stray students.

James led me down a corridor that I had never been before. This part of the castle was eerily quiet, and I was about to inquire where exactly he was taking me when he stopped in front of a broom closet.

Oh, Merlin, __no__! How could I have been so foolish? I can't believe I thought he was actually going to tell me what was troubling him, when in reality all he wanted was the opportunity to snog me in the closet!

I spun on him quickly, my voice ice cold. "You know what, Potter? I should have expected nothing less from you." I made to run out toward Gryffindor dorm.

"Lily, wait!" He shouted. I turned.

"What?" I said caustically.

"I don't want to snog you. Well, actually I do, but that's an entirely different matter that can be resolved sometime else. I just needed a private place to talk. I can't tell you everything; I just wanted to..."

He trailed off anticlimactically.

"What, Potter? You just wanted to what? Imperio me so I can strip for you or something? Save it."

"I just wanted to clarify that I'm not mad at you in any way."

Oh. Well. I stuttered to think of a response, but couldn't. I let him lead me into the room, which was a spacious closet with some dusty textbooks and old brooms lining the walls.

He spoke up. "I got the sense that you thought I was mad at you. Today. And so I decided to mollify your guilty conscience."

I snorted. "Guilty conscience? You wish."

For a millisecond, James Potter's customary smirk appeared in the dimly-lit closet. "Who wants to see such a beautiful face like mine frown?"

I laughed sarcastically and sharply. "Did you drag me in here to gloat, Potter? Come on, spit out what's eating you already, so I can fix it and go back to making fun of you with no remorse!"

His eyes searched the floor. "It's probably nothing, really. Yesterday some Death Eaters attacked the village near where I live. I was worried sick..you know, because my parents are Aurors, and they were the only ones assigned to the mission..."

I gasped, all traces of gaiety wiped away. "What happened? Are they all right?"

"Yeah, thank Merlin, I just got the owl from mum that she and dad made it back home with barely a scar. That's why we weren't down at dinner yesterday or today. I was waiting for the mail, and my friends were kind enough to put up with me awake all those hours."

"But they're safe now," he continued, running his fingers through his dark hair, "so that's why I lightened up a bit to come downstairs for a bite. But naturally, I'm still shaken up." He let out a contented sigh of relief.

"Oh," was all I could mumble out, still in wonder witnessing this burst of emotion from James. I had no idea that he was so protective of his parents.

The air seemed lighter after it was established that everyone was safe.

It was silent before I finally spoke up. "I believe that this is the longest conversation we've had without you asking me to Hogsmeade."

James let out a huge laugh, and threw his arm over me, leading me out of the closet. "So what do you say, Evans? You, me, and every flavor of bean that Bernie Bott can think of?"

I sighed. What in Nicholas Flammel's name was I thinking when I said I missed our quips? I pried off his arm. "In your sweetest dreams, Potter."

"Well then I'll sleep well tonight, Evans." He walked away towards the dormitories, leaving me in stunned silence at the entrance of the closet.

* * *

The next day James was back to his old self (as in, being a complete pain in the arse). I couldn't help but notice how easily he could blow that sensitive side away and resume his troublemaking, all in 12 hours' time.

During Divination, he conveniently forgot his Unfogging The Future textbook and used that opportunity to share mine. To prevent my eyes from falling asleep from the teacher's droning words, I occupied myself with watching Potter be a complete idiot and fool around with his wand. He was concentrating unnaturally hard on a small scrap of parchment. When my curiosity got the better of me and I leaned over, he caught my eye and grinned at my attention. I quickly turned back to my book.

On the left side of the page, a miniature animal made of James' parchment trotted into my line of vision. Inspecting it a bit closer, I saw that it was a cute little folded female deer. I reached my hand out toward her.

" _ _LILY.__ " I heard a voice from the front of the room, and I snapped my head toward the board.

"Yes, Professor?" I said, hurriedly trying to hide the paper forest animal from view.

"Perhaps you can tell us what lies in your crystal ball?" Professor Trebble said, a bit impatiently, as if this was not the first time she had asked me this.

"Oh, yes," I mumbled, embarrassed. My hair shielded James from view so I could concentrate on my clear ball. I literally saw not a single thing.

"Er, I see...a dark gray...hand." I stumbled out lamely, and Professor Trebble clutched her heart.

"Oh __dear__ ," she said dramatically, and the entire class tinkled with snickers, although of course she was oblivious to it. "You need assistance in your life. And something or someone will come and fill that void soon, don't you worry, dear. Don't you worry."

James watched me trying in vain to act mature and nod believably in front of Trebble's preposterous predictions. I had my mouth squeezed into a tight line, which was apparently comical to him. I flicked the charmed doe into his face.

* * *

The next morning before breakfast, I sat down in my dormitory to scrawl my mum and dad a reply to their frequent letters. I wrote the usual, ubiquitous nonsense; how well school was going, how much I had admired the (horrid) dress robes that Dad had picked out himself, and how much I terribly missed my sister Petunia.

My letter in hand, I strolled down the castle's marble stairs, amusing myself with the thoughts of heaping portions of bacon, eggs, and blueberries. Walking into the Great Hall, it was full and owls were even beginning to arrive with that day's mail and paper.

My graceful owl Athena arrived, and I stuck the parcel in her cream beak. After I had sent her off to my address, I sorted through the items that she dropped off with me.

A message from Petunia, demanding where I had hid her conditioner before I left for Hogwarts. I could practically read the anger emanating off the pages, and discarded it quickly. The last thing that I received was a fresh copy of the Daily Prophet.

Normally, I would just give my copy to Severus to read, because I had never fully gotten around to understanding Wizarding gossip and stories. I had no interest in Quidditch updates or anything like that, and Sev couldn't afford a subscription, so usually I just passed mine down to the Slytherin table. I could see Severus from where I was sitting, staring blankly in the direction of the paper in my hands. Ugh, the jerk obviously thought I would still give it to him out of habit, even though I was FURIOUS with him at the moment.

To spite him, I opened it ostentatiously to peruse it myself. I am not a vengeful person, but I haven't quite found it in my heart yet to forgive Severus about what he uttered a few months ago. About my...kind.

But looking directly at the random page I had opened, my jaw opened and I took a sharp gasp.

 _ _Thomas Riddle, a rising dark magic practicer, and a group of followers stormed the town of Brokedale last night. The gang smashed house windows and carried a rampage across the city. The Ministry of Magic sent their last two uninjured and active Aurors, Jacqueline and Kenneth Potter, to defer the fleet, but have not heard from them since. Ministry employees are gathering supplies to -__

I stopped right there and scanned the Gryffindor table. Sure enough, a certain boy was not present, and four empty bench seats lay un-warmed a few meters down from me.

Marcy, again sitting across from me, asked, "If you're just going to sit there with the paper in your hands, can I read it? I heard Darlene Skeeter has a new article out today on how to decorate your dormitory."

I distractedly shoved the paper over at her and got up from the table.

"Earth to Lily!" She called as she waved her painted nails in front of me. "What's eating you? Is it James?"

At his name, I looked at her. She grinned a smile that resembled the Cheshire Cat's. "Ooooh, I see," she cooed obnoxiously. "I knew Joanne was telling the truth. She said she spotted you and Potter coming out of the broom closet the day before last." She wiggled her eyebrows.

I narrowed my eyes. "That's absurd," I said, "you should know I'm the last person to grace Potter with my presence. And you trust __Joanne__ for information? Marcy, even if she were in a burning building, she'd lie about her whereabouts."

Marcy scoffed, but looked convinced nonetheless. "Then why have you hardly touched your breakfast? And where exactly are you going right now?"

I shifted my eyes. "I'll be in my dormitory. Testing out Darlene Skeeter's decorating techniques." With a curt nod, I raced out of there before she could asked any follow-up questions.

I hopped up the stairs and practically shouted the password at the Fat Lady. After I was inside the common room, I paused at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the boys' room.

I decided that I could go up them. All the students and teachers were still at breakfast, so who was going to get me in trouble?

I knocked on the Marauders' room - don't ask me how they weaseled their way into a shared room - and opened it before hearing a 'Come In'.

Immediately, a startled Peter Pettigrew pulled up his pants over his boxers.

I shielded my eyes. "I was changing!" Peter squeaked, obviously horrified.

I'm sure I was more scarred than he was. I could feel the heat in my cheeks but I still searched the room, when my eyes landed on the last three.

James was staring out the window next to his owl's empty cage. His eyes were glassy and looking longingly out onto Hogwarts' grounds. He was clearly waiting for a letter. Sirius was at his side, his body slumped and his legs straddling a chair backwards. Remus was sitting cross-legged on the bed, fiercely pouring over that day's newspaper. The tension was severe, and my arrival seemed to exacerbate it.

James looked in my direction and straightened up at the window quickly. "Lily!" he said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

In the rush I felt after I realized that his parents were in danger, I went to go find him, as a reflex. Now, standing in the designated boys' room, with a quivering Peter and a forlorn Sirius, I began to wonder myself: what __was__ I doing here?

"I...heard about your parents," I said, "in the paper. I was just..here to say I hope they're okay."

I was looked at like I had tubers for ears. Finally, James stumbled out, "Thanks. I hope so too."

Peter looked up. "Is breakfast still being served?"

I nodded slowly, and Sirius got up from his chair. "James, I'm telling you this because I love you, man. You need to eat something. We'll go downstairs and pick up something for you, and you can wait for a message."

James nodded faintly, and Sirius nudged Remus and motioned Peter with his hand to follow him down to the Great Hall. That left James and me alone in his room. Something I never thought I would ever say.

"So," said James, as he traced his finger around the windowsill, "what's with the sudden concern about the safety of my family?"

I shrugged. "Everyone's talking about what that Riddle guy is capable of, and I heard that your parents are the only hope we've got nowadays. It must be hard for you."

He panned dryly. "Funny how that 'only hope' thing works. If my folks die, all the Ministry has to do is train more Aurors. And no one truly loses but me."

I bunched my mouth to one side. "That's not true. Everyone adores your parents. They'll keep them safe." But even I wasn't positive. I walked over to the window to take in the morning. Ironically, it was a gorgeous day. But once one passed the pane of this particular window, the poles reversed and a wave of sadness washes over.

We waited until James looked at the clock on his wall. "My owl always comes at eight thirty. On the dot." I followed his gaze, and saw the minute hand tick past the forty-five.

Abruptly, I spotted a dot in the distance directly in the line of the window. "James! I said, shaking him. "What's that?"

James tilted his head, and slowly perked up. "That's him!" He said. He slipped on his distinctive glasses and lifted the glass. "And he has something in his talons!"

Half a minute later, a tan barn owl perched onto the window. James tore the letter from its legs and devoured the letter with his eyes.

I didn't have to look at the letter to see that it was from his parents and they were okay. James, forgetting that he and I were not close, picked me up and spun me around in his arms.

"They're safe!" He shouted, and thrust the letter into my face, like an excited little puppy.

I giggled at his expression as I read the letter. It was dusty, but it clearly stated that both of his parents had reached a protected stronghold.

James' hands clutched at his hair, and pulled at it as he uttered shouts of joy and disbelief. The entire air of the room had altered, and it was starting to reflect the clear day outside.

When James' exult had died down, he seemed to notice that I had come into his room. Voluntarily. A sly grin overtook his face. "Well, Lily," he said, grinning from ear to ear, "looks like you DO care about me."

"Oh, please. Your parents, maybe, but you? Pah." I sat on his bed indignantly.

Nothing would wipe his beam. "Not even a taaaaad?"

I rolled my eyes, but he pulled me closer. Before I could tell what was happening, I was against his body and he was pressing his lips to mine.

Although I was startled at first by the sudden gesture, something overcame me and I relaxed, closing my eyes. He hugged me tightly, the letter from his parents now pressed between the two of us. I grabbed his hair subconsciously, and was pleasantly surprised at how entertaining it was to tug at it. He leaned me farther back, so that we were nearly lying down on his covers.

James pulled back slightly to wordlessly ask if he could continue, and it became clear to me that kissing me had been an impulse not in his control. But I didn't mind. I inclined my head farther to close the gap between us, forgetting momentarily that this was the boy who stole Mad Eye Moody's fake eye and threatened to place it in the girl's shower.

James moved and kissed my cheek. "You have no idea how long I've thought about doing that," he whispered.

With everything happening, you could understand how my guard had been let down, and how I was not focused on monitoring the door. Or who walked in.

So when Sirius waltzed in at that precise moment, hands full of breakfast items, you could say that he dropped every single one of them on the floor in shock.

I would have too, if I had watched the scene in front of me.

* * *

 ** **A/N: Hello! This story was originally called Stag and Doe:The Journey, but my computer messed up and deleted it, so I'm re-publishing it, this time edited and with a different name. Because I like puns oh so very much. :)****

 ** **Tune in next week for Chapter 2! What did you think of Chapter 1?****

 ** **X,****

 ** **DKMV****


	2. Chapter 2

_My Deer Jily_

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

 _Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like. –Lemony Snicket_

* * *

I hastily pushed James' body to the side and rose up from the bed, tugging at my uniform skirt.

Sirius still stood at the door, his eyes wildly racing between the two of us as he digested the scene in front of him. James had crinkles of mirth playing around his eyes, but overall looked vaguely annoyed to be under such scrutiny.

I, on the other hand of the spectrum, was furiously attempting to construct an elaborate explanation of why James Potter had been practically on top of me just twenty seconds before. But flustered, each attempt died on my lips as I was about to utter them; the result was some retarded sputtering that deepened my blushing face.

Finally, Sirius spoke up cheekily. "Oh, where are my manners? Is this a bad time for you two?"

"No," I said, glowing under his eye contact. "I – I was just leaving. Glad your parents are...good, James."

Mumbling some goodbyes, I hastened out of the boys' dormitories, but not before the door slammed behind me and I heard Sirius shout exuberantly, "Damn, mate! If you get action like that every time you skip breakfast, I'm never eating another meal again!"

* * *

My heart rate didn't die down until about twenty minutes before I went to bed that evening. And even still, I was wide awake; I could feel my pulse at every point that James had touched.

He had kissed me. And I didn't draw my wand threatening to hex him. I didn't even pull back. In fact, I reciprocated his advances.

 _How was I not able to control myself?_ I thought shamefully. _Breaking news: Lily cannot regulate her hormones around the male species, and will let any old prick kiss her when he feels like it!_

 _I should feel_ repulsed _by that kiss_ , I told myself. I did not not not enjoy it. I muttered this to myself until I fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, a timid second-year approached me and informed me that the Headmaster had asked for all the Head Students to meet in his office right after we finished our meals. Happy to get out of the Great Hall and out of the range of four specific Marauders, I got up from my bench quickly when I remembered that James, too, was a Head Student. A sigh escaped my mouth. I was going to have to bite the bullet and attend the meeting with him.

I walked out of the Hall, and heard footsteps behind me heading Dumbledore's way as well. I took my best guess and assumed that it was the _last_ person I'd like to talk to at the moment. I quickened my pace, but James was faster than I was and caught up with me.

"Lily," he said, and I tilted my face slightly so that my red hair formed a curtain around my face. Call the Sorting Hat back in or something, because there was no way that I could be considered a Gryffindor.

James touched my chin and gently guided it so I was forced to look at him.

"Yes?" I asked with wide eyes, playing the innocent card. Hopefully, he wouldn't mention yesterday's events and we could both forget they happened.

"Why are you avoiding me? More than usual, for that matter." He cracked a grin.

"I'm not avoiding you," I said immediately. But I blushed because it was so obviously a lie, and tried again,

"I'm just trying to collect my thoughts. A lot has happened in the last couple hours."

"I'll say. Are you hearing what half the school is whispering about us?"

I cringed. Marcy Bracey had already lit the fuse towards the unmentionable proceedings that Potter and I apparently committed in that broom closet.

James continued, "But, uh, I guess I want to apologize for yesterday. I was so happy that my parents were safe - I...guess I took advantage of my situation. Sorry."

"Yeah," I said, suddenly feeling confrontational. "How many people are you telling about your little stunt, anyway?"

"I didn't tell anyone!" he insisted, raising his arms defensively. "Well, besides Sirius and the gang - but they were witnesses, so what could I do?"

"You better not tell anyone," I said menacingly, "or...or I will let every single girl in our year know that you kiss like a fish."

James laughed loudly. Both he and I knew that it was false.

He leaned towards me casually, "That's not what you sounded like yesterday."

I shrieked and moved to shove his arm, but he had already taken off, whooping and racing down the corridor.

I tore after him and chased him until he skidded to a stop at the entrance of the meeting place. But I didn't have enough time to brake, and ended up bumping into his back.

He turned around, still laughing. After catching our breath, we began to head up the ornate staircase to the Headmaster's office.

I've always loved entering his chambers. A cozy velvet couch was set in the corner, and thousands of trinkets were resting, suspended, or flying about the expansive room. It smelled like a thousand old books mixed with the peppermints on his desk. There was no other way to put it other than Dumbledore's office felt like a second home.

"Ah, Lily and James," came a voice above us. Looking up, I smiled at the Headmaster as he descended his mahogany staircase.

"Are we early, Headmaster?" I asked worriedly. James and I were the only Head students in the room at the moment.

"No, no," he soothed, walking over to his pet Fawkes, petting him lightly with the back of his index finger. "In fact, I must confess that I wasn't entirely honest with the message that I sent out earlier today. You were the only two I summoned."

Oh? I glanced suspiciously at James, wondering what he could have done to single us out, but he looked as baffled as I was.

Dumbledore pressed on. "You aren't in trouble, Miss Evans." I relaxed.

The old wizard straightened his back. "You two are so, very talented," he said, smiling.

"Which is why," he continued, "I brought you here to enlist your help."

"I am part of an organization," he said thoughtfully, staring intensely into our eyes, as if uncovering our very thoughts, "that is dedicated to defending what is still pure in this world. This society is known to me and others as the Order of the Phoenix." He glanced back at Fawkes.

 _So the rumors were true._ My skin prickled from curiosity. He wasn't asking me to join some silly school club. _This was real. This was dangerous._ My Headmaster is asking me to join his agency to murder Death Eaters. And I haven't even completed my NEWTS yet.

The color drained from my face as I sunk into the velvet cushions. A few minutes ago, they had seemed so welcoming, but now, all I saw was the scarlet pigment of blood. I glanced up at James to see how he was taking it.

He was intrigued. He stood attentively, the sheer honor sweeping through his features as he gazed at Dumbledore with a newfound admiration. His eyes were glowing with anticipation.

"I must warn you, the work is perilous and the hours are terribly inconvenient. Of course," Dumbledore continued, sensing my distress, "you cannot volunteer until you complete your mandatory school requirements. Training begins shortly after graduation, and your involvement is completely up to you.

"I suspect you two will need to get to Potions right about now. And I trust that this meeting will be kept strictly confidential?" He was polite enough to make it a question, but it was clear that it was redundant.

I wordlessly nodded my head and stumbled from the room. I didn't even remember trudging to Potions.

Since James and I were the last ones to be seated in the classroom, we were paired for a Potions assignment. I whined inwardly, not only because he was probably the most difficult student to work with, but so many things were overwhelming me and I really did not want to discuss it.

Nevertheless, James plopped down on the stool next to me and heaved his bulky Potions book onto my desk. I jumped as it made contact, and he grinned and shook his head.

"I don't know about you, Evans, but I don't like getting anything short of Outstanding on my Potions projects. And you need to actually be awake in order to contribute."

"How can you be so nonchalant?" I whisper-hissed. "Someone just practically asked us to DIE for him."

He clucked his tongue and continued checking the ingredients. "Who said anything about dying? We should be honored that he even considered us. But right now, our biggest concern should be this Wolfsbane we have to crush." He walked away to pick up the potion contents.

He got back and set everything up next to our cauldron. I anxiously tapped my foot against my stool, itching to get back to my dormitory and think.

"All right, let's get this started," he said, and his hand raised, poised to pour red liquid into the black pot.

I grabbed his arm, pulling it back abruptly. Slowly, like I was speaking to a three-year-old, I said, "Don't you think we should wash out the cauldron first so the potion isn't contaminated?"

The corner of James' mouth twitched in entertainment. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Lilypad. I scrubbed it clean yesterday."

We didn't talk about Dumbledore's proposal the rest of the class, and instead made great progress on our potion. Unlike my other partners who sat by dumbly while I did all the work, James actually questioned what I saw fit and engaged in the project. And, I admitted sheepishly to myself, I suppose some of his suggestions weren't AS feebleminded as I gave him credit for. We were the first ones done.

I was just building up the nerve to talk to James about the whole Dumbledore situation when the Transfiguration teacher Professor McGonagall stepped into the room. She had color in her cheeks and she looked a tad out of breath. She collected herself for a second before she addressed the Potions teacher.

"May I borrow Potter for a moment please?" she said indifferently. She had one of those faces that was impossible to read and you did not want to cross.

"Oh, yes. Potter, go ahead," Professor Leary said from the front of the room.

Skeptical, James glanced at me and then followed McGonagall out into the hall. As the two figures disappeared out the door, I saw a corner of the Daily Prophet tucked firmly under McGonagall's arm.

I swiftly turned to my tote and fished out my own copy of the paper. I uncrumpled it and flattened it out on my lap. It didn't take long to pinpoint the article I was seeking.

Oh bloody, twisted hell.

 _James' parents were dead._

My heart sunk into my intestines as more and more consequences streamed into my mind. I had never even met the Potters, and even then the shock resonated with me as I scanned the page.

 _Last night around 7 pm a pack of Death Eaters swarmed the village of Crosslane, on the outskirts of the north side of the Forbidden Forest. The Ministry deployed combatants all across the town boundary lines, so that no belligerents would get any closer to the heavily populated Diagon Alley. After two hours of battle and negotiation, the Ministry managed to arrest seven out of the eight aggressors. The final of the pack, Omar Crowe, escaped and started what one onlooker described as 'shooting hexes randomly and fiercely, with his intentions nothing short of demolition.' At the end of his riot, Jacqueline and Kenneth Potter, two dedicated Aurors for twenty-five and twenty-eight years, respectively, had been murdered. Funeral services will be held this Tuesday, March 27, in the highest respect the wizarding community can offer for two wizards that risked their life for the protection of others._

The doors opened once more, and I snapped to attention as James stepped back in. Behind his glasses, his face was blank, wiped clean of any emotion. He stared at nothing in particular as he walked up the aisle and sat back down. His mouth was pressed into a tight line, as though as he was straining to prevent himself from crying out.

He attempted to hide his hands in his robe, but I saw that his fist was bloodstained. He caught me staring at it.

In a flat, throaty voice, he muttered, "I accidentally punched the wall."

I opened my mouth but shut it quickly, as nothing suitable to say came to my brain. I had no idea if he wanted to acknowledge it or not.

I didn't have to think it over for long. Potions class ended, as did our school day, and he could not have been quicker in leaving the classroom.

I impulsively went after him. I chased him outside the castle and found him on a grass-surrounded bench facing the lake, his head bowed down and his hands in his hair.

I silently sat down next to him and timidly placed my hand on his back. He registered that a presence was next to him, and peeked up at who had decided to join him. He saw that it was me, and turned back into his palms.

"It's strange," he said after a while. "Death, I mean. It's one of the the only things all humans will have in common, and yet it's still a surprise when it happens to someone you know."

I tried furiously to fight back the acid that was building up in my tear ducts. Finally, all I could choke out was, "Your parents were _so_ brave." I pulled out the Daily Prophet article and, leaving out the part where his parents were killed, read him the sections that described how many lives his parents saved.

After I was done reading the article, I gingerly took his broken hand in my own and healed it with my wand. He slowly lifted up his face to inspect the fixed skin, and then looked me straight in the eye for the first time since coming out to the bench. "Thank you, Lily," he said.

We stayed on the bench for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

The next week, all Seventh Years were allowed to travel to Hogsmeade by themselves, a liberty the school allowed due to the stress of imminent NEWTS hanging over our heads.

James had taken the week to carefully heal, barely showing his face besides in class. He and the Marauders spent the weekend cooped up in their dormitory. James was also not allowed to go on the Hogsmeade trip, as Omar Crowe, who had killed his parents, was still at large and well aware of the Potter name.

I stepped into Honeydukes, which was still as fascinating to me as it was at age eleven. The vibrancy of it overwhelmed anyone, and I was browsing through some Sugar Quills when I felt something on my shoulder. Turning around, I only saw the other end of the aisle, completely empty of any people. Strange. I dismissed the touch and began picking flavors when the same contact brushed a lock of hair out of my face. Whipping back this time, I still couldn't see a thing. Suddenly, James Potter's head appeared out of thin air, a crafty smirk playing about his face.

"James!" I whisper-shrieked in disbelief. His head was the only thing I could see. The rest of his body was invisible! "How are you here?! And why are you only a head?!" Tentatively, I reached out into the space below his head. Huh. I could FEEL his body. I just couldn't see it.

James removed whatever was shielding him, and I gasped and pulled back when I discovered that my hand was dangerously close to a certain region of his.

"Sorry!" I said frightfully, but James just gave me a roguish half-smile and presented me with what made him undetectable.

As I felt the fabric, James told me, "It's my Invisibility Cloak. It's been in my family for centuries. It's how I get away from Filch and Peeves and that lot."

I wrapped the cloak around my arm and marveled at the effects.

"I've always WONDERED how you never get caught!" I exclaimed. "Since it obviously couldn't have been talent alone," I added boldly.

"Hey!" James said, feigning offense. He then leaned in like he was about to tell me a secret no one else was supposed to hear and whispered, "But you know what? Sometimes, I don't even get the cloak on in time and Madame Pomfrey lets me off anyway."

It was well-known information that Madame Pomfrey was practically in love with "those cute troublemaker" Marauders. She stares at James the way no staff member should look at a student.

I pantomimed a gag for James, but he only shrugged back with an "I can't help it that I'm adorable" expression.

At that moment, the Charms teacher walked into Honeydukes. In a knee-jerk reaction, I thrust the invisibility cloak over James and we raced out of the shop.

It was drizzling outside, and so we ended up wandering into The Three Broomsticks. Once James was satisfied that there was no Hogwarts staff inside, he removed his cloak and we both ordered Butterbeers.

"Lily, I need to tell you something."

I swiveled my chair to face him, the Butterbeer's warmth spreading through me. I beckoned him to tell.

His finger traced the edge of his mug. "Since my parents passed, I've been thinking a lot, and decided that I'm not doing enough."

"That's ridiculous, James. Your parents would be so proud of you."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I sense that the entire Wizard World is on the brink of something huge. Something destructive and horrific."

I nodded. "The Death Eaters are gaining a lot of support in the poor Pureblood communities who think that the Ministry owes them for simply existing."

"Yes. Exactly! And as long as Omar Crowe...is still on the run, I feel I have a duty to protect everyone whose lives are in danger.

"Which is why..." He took a deep breath.

"I enlisted in the Order of the Phoenix."

* * *

 **A/N: Happy Friday!** **I have the basic plot of this story planned out, but if there's a specific James/Lily scene or something that you want to see, just let me know in the reviews! They never fail to make my day!**

 **Tune in next week for another installment of _My Deer Jily_! :)**

 **X,**

 **DKMV**


	3. Chapter 3

_My Deer Jily_

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

 _There is only one kind of shock worse than the totally unexpected: the expected from which one has refused to prepare. -Mary Renault_

* * *

My features froze on my face. My smile that I had worn just moments ago now resembled a humorless grin. Slowly, my cheek muscles fell.

I don't remember dropping my butterbeer, but I vaguely recall feeling the shards from my mug pierce my calf. My gaze shifted down to my leg and the beads of blood appearing along the scratches. _This room is hot. It's too stuffy in here. I need to get out._

I slid off the cushy stool and forced my ankles to function. Anything to get my heart pumping again, I thought weakly. I raced out of The Three Broomsticks and into the rain outside.

I whirled my head around blindly, my hair becoming frizzier by the second. _I should have seen this coming._ How could James resist the temptation, especially after his heightened sense of vengeance following his parents' deaths? I couldn't blame him for wanting to volunteer - but just because he had a reason for it, doesn't mean he should! Death is almost certainly guaranteed. He's still only seventeen.

I ducked into the Hog's Head and ran straight for the wooden drinking barrel holding firewhisky. Without pausing to remind myself of my Head Girl status, I poured myself a heaping glass and downed it in one gulp.

I set the glass down as a burning sensation slid down my throat and a coughing fit overtook me. As I began frantically gasping for air, I lost control over my eyes and tears started freely streaming.

I could only imagine what other patrons thought of me. _Look at that crying schoolgirl choking down her first firewhisky. Pathetic._

James slammed open the door, looking around wildly. When he spotted me in the corner, he darted for me and pulled a chair behind me, right before I collapsed onto it.

"What the _hell_?" He said as studied my red face and empty firewhisky goblet.

I glanced up at him. His hair was more disheveled than usual, and he was thoroughly soaked with rainwater. His glasses were foggy and had droplets on them.

"Why are you not okay with me joining the Order?" he said, taking a seat across from me. He removed his glasses and wiped them clear, settling them back on his nose so he could look at me unobstructed.

My mind unwillingly flashed to the hundreds of gruesome images I had seen over the past few weeks in the Prophet: thousand-year-old buildings being blown to ash, trained Order wizards tortured beyond recognition, and most intensely of all, I pictured dead, bloated bodies strewn across the cobblestone streets.

"I wouldn't wish that life upon _anyone_ ," I mumbled.

James looked at me with concern. "Well SOMEONE'S got to do it! Who do you think keeps Hogwarts students safe?"

"You're a Hogwarts student _yourself_."

"I'm at the top of the class," James said. "Second only _maybe_ to you. I can handle myself out there."

"Not to mention you have no idea what Tom Riddle is capable of!" I continued.

James threw back the hair covering his eyes in exasperation, "Nobody does, Lily, and that's why he needs to be stopped before every corrupt person around joins him!"

I was hopelessly running out of coherent things to say as the hazy effect of the whisky took over my brain.

"What about Remus?" I demanded. "He would've never let you join."

He opened his mouth but I interrupted him,

"And what about Sirius? How the hell did he react, because I'm 100 percent sure that it wasn't positive feedback."

James reddened and glanced down. "I haven't told them yet."

I paused. "What about me?"

James' eyes shot up to mine, completely taken aback. Hell, it came out of my mouth before I could stop it. What's in this firewhisky, anyway?

James wrinkled his brow, choosing his next words very carefully. Finally, he cleared his throat,

"I'll be protecting you, Lily."

I pushed his chest. "Get it through your thick skull, James! I don't NEED your protection. I have trained Aurors to do that. YOUR job is to complete Hogwarts, and then you can do whatever you bloody want!"

"I'm still going to finish Seventh Year. I'll just be available in case the Ministry needs any reinforcement."

"When do you start training?"

"The day after next."

My eyes widened, and James looked like he immediately regretted telling me.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, James, could you have possibly made it any sooner?"

Maybe it was the possibility that James wasn't returning to Hogwarts. Or maybe it was the firewhisky. But I grabbed him roughly by his coat collar and pulled his lips into mine.

Momentarily stunned by the fact that I was the one to initiate, James soon snapped out of it and almost rhythmically slid one hand around the side of my face. I felt his other warm hand move to rest against my waist. I clasped my hands around his neck, my sense of urgency growing. At this point, my breaths were labored and shallow and my entire body was on fire.

I leaned into him, practically in his lap. James didn't seem to care that any teacher could walk into the bar at that moment (technically he was still banned from visiting Hogsmeade), and I sure didn't care about the glances other diners were shooting us, as I generally would have.

A loud crash outside forced us prematurely apart. The first few moments were disorienting; I had no idea what was happening and why the blood had rushed out of everyone's cheeks. Almost immediately after the sound, the Three Broomsticks manager barged out of the kitchens, bellowing in a commandeering voice,

" _EVERYONE BARRICADE THE DOOR_. IT'S THEM." All his employees and even a few patrons frantically set to work as if they had known what to do all along. The people sitting at the bar began to stack chairs and slide tables in front of the entrance. Wands out, those who had sat at the booths started reinforcing the makeshift blockade with spells.

The lethargic side effect of firewhisky made me slow to register the danger, and James grabbed me by the arm and pushed me roughly away from our chairs toward the center of the restaurant.

As I stumbled to the opposite corner, the wall I had just been near exploded. My heart rate accelerated as chunks of plaster and stone filled the cramped space. A solid piece of rock flew at the bar where at least five people crouched. The screams hurt my brain.

In the debris, I felt James' heavy hand grab mine and yank me away from the crash site. We found our way outside of The Three Broomsticks, and the first thing I saw made my stomach jump into my throat. A dozen darkly hooded figures were visible through the smoke _._

They were all facing outward in a tight-knit circle, forming a solid ring of black. Senseless hexes ended in clouds of dust as they crumbled buildings, or even worse, struck anguished human beings.

The air was heavy with hissing sounds as the rain extinguished the small fires that the dark wizards produced. James and I crouched behind the corner of a narrow alleyway.

One member of the troupe broke the circle position and began to tramp down the street. The eleven other Death Eaters followed suit. As the dust began to obstruct his view, he ripped off his hood to see better. I gasped a sharp breath of air as I identified Omar Crowe's hollow features.

A low growl came from deep inside James' throat as he recognized who had infiltrated Hogsmeade. Instinctually, he rose up from his crouched position and started for the dark wizard. I lunged at his robes, desperately trying to pull him back to safety, but he just shrugged his outer layer off when I wouldn't let go.

So I followed him. I followed James Potter into a death trap.

Our figures were glaringly perceptible as we paced toward Crowe, as at that moment, we were literally the only two people approaching him. I couldn't help thinking, my mind racing: _Where is everyone? Why, after so many promises to defend Hogsmeade, is everyone hiding? Why the hell are we, kids, the only ones here?_

Crowe noticed James first. He held up a large hand, signaling the other men to stop firing spells. He was waiting to single out the wizard who was gutsy enough to cross him.

The dust eventually cleared with the eery cease-fire, and Omar was able to identify James Potter. His eyes narrowed, and he threw his left arm behind his back, concealing it from view. I knew why he hid it; it had been James' parents who left Crowe with a nasty scar on that arm.

With his able right arm, Crowe pointed his wand directly at James' heart.

The quiet air was pierced by Crowe's Unforgivable screech. But no, it wasn't directed at James. Crowe's aim had shifted. His curse was now directed towards me.

I could hear James shout 'Protego!' as a translucent screen shielded me from the green spell. Malevolent light hit the screen in front of me and diffused, erupting in all directions. My hair flew back behind my shoulders, but I was unscathed. At that moment, I realized Crowe's true intentions. He aimed to torture James in the worst way possible - not by harming him but by harming those he cared about.

It was an advanced evil beyond a moral being's comprehension. I looked at James, who seemed to have transformed before me. Instead of mischief, his eyes were brimming with hatred as he directed his wand at Crowe.

In a flash, he started slashing his wand rapidly, muttering spell after spell, angling his wand in different ways. Omar took a slight step back as he now acted on the defensive, clearly shocked at the outburst of spells coming from a schoolboy.

James' resentment was growing. With each hex that Crowe deflected, he became more and more frustrated. His spells got louder.

I raised my wand to disarm Crowe while he was focused on James, but the other men noticed and advanced towards me. The intensity of battle overwhelmed but centered me, and my mind was wiped clean except for a very vivid image of the blackboard in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I could only afford to remember those spells at the moment.

Stupify. Expelliarmus. Stupify. Expelliarmus. Think, Lily, think.

I didn't have time to shoot many spells, as my hands were full deflecting the barrage of dark magic aimed at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James rapidly gaining the upper hand against Omar. He had slashed Crowe's able arm and was now pushing him into a corner of the street. Adult wizards on our side seemed to be leaking out of the corridors now. All we had to do was hold them off until the Ministry arrived.

James knocked Crowe's wand from his hand and into his own. Without hesitation he snapped it on his thigh and threw the pieces in opposite directions. Crowe sunk into the corner, humiliated and at the mercy of James.

James raised his wand, and was about to shout something when Aurors of the Ministry apparated in all directions. A man forced me out of the way of the Death Eaters and shot powerful bolts of light towards the group.

One Auror grabbed James' wand hand before he cursed Crowe and banded the Death Eater's arms behind his back. Once the Aurors had gathered all of the offenders, they gave curt nods to James and me. They then disappeared into thin air, without even summoning a Healer for the injured people on the street.

The dark murkiness in James' eyes broke and his warm brown color flooded back as he collapsed onto his knees. I rushed over to him. His head was bowed shamefully, and in between deep, labored breaths of air, he muttered,

"Lily...oh god...I was gonna kill him..."

I took his face in my hands. "No you weren't! You were just in shock and you needed to disarm him before he got to anyone else. It was the right thing to do," I tried to soothe him, my forehead knit in concern.

"Did you see me out there?" He said, shaking his head in disbelief, "I was actually going to murder someone..."

"It's not your fault; James, you _know_ it's not your fault," I kept repeating pleadingly.

This wasn't just a skirmish between a few evil men and the Ministry. The rampage of Hogsmeade, a central Wizarding town, was an act of war. I swallowed, suddenly acutely aware of what I had to do. And more surprisingly, I was fully ready for it.

"I'm joining the Order with you."

* * *

 **A/N: Any comments or suggestions? Give me your thoughts, and I'll update early! See you next week!**

 **X,**

 **DKMV**


	4. Chapter 4

_My Deer Jily  
_

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

 _Your intellect may be confused, but your emotions will never lie to you. -Roger Ebert_

* * *

My feet were forcefully lifted off of the ground as I careened backward. My eyes squeezed shut as I braced for the impact, and my back soon slammed against a soft mat on the wall. I stumbled forward to regain my balance.

My wand was no longer in my hand at this point, but I spotted it a few meters away and scrambled to retrieve it.

Alastor Moody hobbled into my vision line with surprising speed. Before I could repossess my wand, Alistor flicked his wrist in my direction and my wand flew to him. He pointed both wands at me.

"Lily," he said, shaking his shaggy brown hair. "There isn't one Death Eater on this damn planet that would give you the privilege of reclaiming your wand once it's out of your hand. You can't ever let it leave your grasp."

Moody roughly grabbed my shoulders and spun me to face a wooden dummy, "You need to angle yourself like this against your opponent. See this peripheral vision? You'll always be able to guess the next move. Repeat that. It's all. about. angles."

I internally rolled my eyes as I imagined how that would work out in battle: Sorry, could you pause for a second? And let me get my protractor?

Nevertheless, I nodded. "It's all about angles."

He continued as he stepped off the gray platform, "Now this is your first day, so I'll let that rookie mistake slide." He paused, and looked at me from over his shoulder, "But Evans? Try to minimize your distractions when you're in battle." His magical eye seared into me knowingly and then glanced over to where James Potter had been standing in his well-fitting shirt seconds before Moody had caught me off guard.

The temperature in my cheeks increased. "That spell was really advanced, Moody!" I protested. "I was not distracted!"

He gave a grunt, the corner of his mouth upturned. Moody had many interests but his favorite subject was making his students look like fools. However, the shadow of the smile was instantly suppressed and he went back to looking irritated as usual.

* * *

At the end of my first training session for The Order of the Phoenix, I was about ready to tape my eyelids up to keep them from threatening to droop. I had been carried, prodded, and hexed. Probably the most damaged was my self-esteem, though, as I reflected the _tsks_ of Moody as I took a generous number of breaks.

Just as I was about to leave, the Overseer of Order Proceedings Marcus Dunloe approached me and dumped a stack of books into my arms along with an extensive list of specific chapters I had to memorize before the next session. My weary brain protested. Merlin, what exactly did I sign up for? I did not remember agreeing to a second education.

My ears perked as I detected a faint footstep behind me. It had been subtle, but I drew my wand and whipped around just as James popped out around the corner. He was clearly just about to try to sneak up and surprise me.

"Bugger, Lily!" he mused, "how'd you know I was there?"

I grinned, satisfied that I had foiled his joke. "Five hours with Moody and I can report I now have six senses," I responded.

Taking note of my sagging head and dragging feet, James grabbed my books from me and slipped them into his backpack, to which I found the energy to say "thanks", my cheeks pink.

Did I look so much like an exhausted zombie that everyone had to take care of me? I would have liked to say, before this training, that I was independent and strong. But now I can't even articulate how tired I am. James, on the other hand, had the nerve to hum a tune with bright eyes as we walked out of the building. Once he registered my glares, he looked down at me. "What?"

"How are you so... _invigorated_?" I sputtered out, annoyed that he was not on the verge of collapsing like I was.

He shrugged. "Moody says that that was just the start of it. You have to look alive to be alive." He took a sip of water.

I groaned. "That was just the _start_ of it? I still have my Potions essay to do and all this information they gave us to read, and on top of that, I'm in desperate need of a bubble bath."

He glanced at me with hopeful eyes. "But you're still coming with Sirius and me to the Witch of the Century tonight, right?"

I raised my eyebrows, amused. Miss Witch of the Century was an annual pageant hosted by the rich seventh year girls at Hogwarts. Let's just say that no measurable amount of intelligence was required to be considered for this 'prestigious honor'.

"Oh, how could I possibly miss it?" I responded dramatically.

He grinned. "Great. I need someone to help keep Sirius out of the girls' dressing room."

I cringed as I remembered last year's incident; it involved the disappearance of our dear friend and a suspicious self-moving clothes cart heading towards the half-naked girls backstage.

He continued. "I'm actually quite surprised in your willingness to watch."

I shrugged. "It's my last year at Hogwarts. I guess now's the time to do everything I wished I had done my first six years."

"Oh really? You regret cramming until two in the morning so that 'James Potter can kiss his nonexistent chances of being first in the class goodbye'?"

I blushed. "Actually, no. That I have no remorse for whatsoever."

"Well, I'm glad you can make it. It's actually quite entertaining to see the Pureblood pageant girls attempt to answer muggle peace questions coherently."

The thought was tempting. James pushed my hair off my collarbone and behind my shoulder. "Maybe you could even participate," he said cheekily.

I nearly snorted. "Ah, yes," I quipped, "Lily Evans, first place pageant queen."

"You never know-w-w," James sang. Still grinning, he grabbed my hand and with a twist, I felt my sucked into a flurry. When I opened my eyes, we were at the edge of Hogwarts grounds. No one except Dumbledore could apparate within the school.

We strolled inside the gates and walked up the echoey stone steps to the common room.

Before I could go up to the girls' dormitory, James stopped and regarded me, his mouth scrunched to the side.

I resisted the impulse to break his gaze with a sharp "What is it?". I managed to stay quiet, my curiosity killing me, when he suddenly looked down and withdrew. "See you," he said quickly. He turned to head back downstairs, his head shaking slightly.

Dazed, I stood at the entrance to my bedroom for a minute longer than I should have. I didn't know what to make of this exchange. Hell, I didn't know what to make of James Potter in general. Our entire dynamic, the banter we had exchanged for the past five years, had been completely thrown off. Are these feelings genuine, or is it all just a fake sense of urgency because we're risking our lives? Is the lurch in my stomach every time I see him mere adrenaline? Or is it butterflies?

I was still standing in the hallway. Shaking out of my dream-like state, I slipped into my room and locked the door behind me.

I showered vigorously, cleansing myself of all the 'constructive' insults that were tossed my way that day. Feeling renewed as I breathed in my hair's lavender scent, I resolved to tackle one problem at a time, starting small with the decision of what I would wear to the event.

After considering my wardrobe for a while, I finally emerged from my closet with a black dress in my hands.

I struggled into the stretchy fabric, smoothing it out with my fingers at just the right edges. I loved this dress. My wizard friends could not confirm this, but the way it was cut around the torso reminded me of Jackie Kennedy. It was sleeveless but body-fitting until the skirt section flared out slightly, coming down to my knee.

Unfortunately, there was no specific spell to make my wet hair presentable. My problem would have to be solved by muggle means, I reasoned. I lifted my suitcase out of the top shelf of my closet and dug around to the very depths of it. I emerged with my curling iron, ignoring the smug voice of Petunia in my head telling me that I would have a need for it someday.

My hair was at least under control by the time I set my iron down ten minutes later. I had burned myself four times, and I definitely did not want to add my ears to my list of red body parts. I finally decided to twist my hair up into a bun, with a few strands hanging out. It was a style so simple, even I could manage it with relative speed.

I slipped on a pair of flats and hopped down the steps leading to the common room two at a time.

I walked into the main Gryffindor room, where Sirius and James were playing a game of Wizards chess next to the fire.

James saw me and stood up really quickly. "Lily!" he greeted. He kept his eyes trained tactfully on my face.

Sirius withdrew his attention from the chess board as he looked up at me. A corner of his mouth lifted up.

"Oy, Lily! I would tell you how great you look, but that's James' job!" He wiggled his eyebrows and turned back to the chess board.

James rolled his eyes, but whispered "It's true though" before pulling another chair out around the game board so we could all sit around it before the pageant began.

Sirius massaged his temples while examining the chess game deeply. Finally, his eyes turned to me pleadingly as he attempted to get me to secretly communicate where he should move. I snickered, shaking my head. However, Sirius continued making not-so-subtle gestures until James caught on,

"Oh, come on, Padfoot. Appealing to Lily because you can't make your move?"

Sirius yelped in protest. "There is nothing wrong with a bit of help in times of distress!"

James turned to me with a faux-annoyed expression, "Lily, you're not buying this, are you?"

Without breaking eye contact with James, I stated cooly, "Knight to E3."

Sirius' knight moved across the board into a triumphant position, and Sirius barked a jubilant laugh. "Ha! Check and MATE, Jamesie!" He then proceeded to sing a song about his desire for James to kiss his rear end, but it was cut short when we realized that the pageant was set to start in only ten minutes.

We sped to the Great Hall, which had temporarily been converted into a theater for the night, and sat down in the front and center of the audience. We were predominantly surrounded by drooling males. Nevertheless, I clamped my jaw and repeated in my head the importance of interacting with different demographics.

The lights dimmed to reveal a twinkling sky as the pageant girls strutted onstage. After everyone clapped politely, each girl individually came to the center, introduced herself, and began her act for the talent portion of the competition. It was all the same thing, really, and I got bored after the fifth show of colorful lights spewing from their wands in swirly patterns.

The question-and-answer portion was largely more entertaining, and when Marcy Bracey stepped up to the podium, I leaned forward a little in my seat.

Darlene Skeeter, the interviewer, muttered a quick Sonorus charm, the wizard equivalent to a microphone. "Now, Miss Bracey," Skeeter asked, "if you could wish for one thing, anything, in the world, what would that be?"

Marcy's plastic smile shivered for a microsecond, and I could practically hear her bite back her true wish of an emerald necklace from Flora's Boutique.

She looked at the audience and then off onto a random point on the opposite wall.

"I would absolutely wish for Wizard peace," she said finally, turning up her smile to maximum wattage. The audience cheered, and the boys whistled.

Give me a break. I guess there are some unfortunate similarities that I couldn't escape from no matter what world I was in.

The after-party was my personal highlight of the night, as I eyed the mounds of rich food on elegant tables, my only concern being how I would be able to fit every dessert onto a single plate.

Later on, I realized that all the pageant girls had changed into a black dress similar to the one I was wearing. Unfortunately for me, this made it look as though I was a participant. As the night wore on, the affluent began eyeing me suspiciously, like, "Why is she gorging on the snacks rather than handing out raffle tickets?" "Aren't the contestants supposed to be..um..pretty?"

Purebloods can be very unsubtle. Let's not talk about it.

I passed the time by reading about the history of Witch of the Century in the brochure when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Looking up, a cupcake was floating in midair a foot away from my face. I cupped my hands beneath the treat as I looked around, attempting to locate the person responsible for the levitating dessert.

My scrutiny dissolved when my eyes landed on James, who immediately averted his gaze in an unsuccessful attempt to look nonchalant. His wand disappeared back into his pocket, and the cupcake dropped delicately into my palms.

* * *

 **A/N: Don't forget to check out next week's installment!**

 **X,**

 **DKMV**


	5. Chapter 5

_My Deer Jily_

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

 _"The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." -Mark Twain_

* * *

 _Two years later_

I opened my eyes to the hollow sound of my grumbling stomach. Blearily, I rubbed my face and lifted my head to peek over James and get a glimpse of the clock. 4:45 a.m.

I let out a huge breath of air and crumpled back onto the pillow. I glanced at James, who was sleeping heavily with his arm tossed across my torso.

James shifted next to me. "How late is it?" I heard him ask sleepily.

I pushed his dark hair out of his eyes.

"Almost five," I responded soothingly, running my thumb over his cheek. James had today off, so it really didn't matter when he got up. I, on the other hand, had to be at work at 6.

I peeled off his arm and was just about to heave myself out of bed when James encircled my waist again.

"You have time," he whined, and drew me back closer to the center of the bed.

My willpower dissolved and I leaned back into the warm crook of his neck without thinking. His eyes still half closed, James leaned sideways and kissed my ear.

Ten more minutes of rest, and all my residual drowsiness had subsided, so with all my strength I extracted myself from my only comfort zone and stumbled groggily into the bathroom.

After getting dressed and ready in a record-breaking fifteen minutes, I moved to the kitchen to start on breakfast. I was frying my eggs when James walked in and sat at the table, still in his boxers. I got out another bowl for him and cracked another egg into the pan. That's when I remembered what I had to tell him. An acidic burst erupted in my stomach, and my palms grew clammy.

James was reading the paper when I came to the dining room table and set his egg down in front of him.

"Thanks," he said appreciatively as he dug into his food.

I stared at my own breakfast, shifting it around with my fork. "How was the match yesterday?" I asked, hopefully sounding casual.

James had gotten home late the day before after watching a Quidditch game with Sirius.

James grinned at me with a knowing look. "Well, we won, but not that Sirius noticed."

I snorted. "So how many women have his address written on their wrists now?"

James smirked, shaking his head. "Lost track," he mumbled.

I started on my fried egg and James set the paper flat on the table so I could see it too.

"Four masked men attacked Madame DeLit's orphanage yesterday," he said. "They murdered seven children."

"Really?" I said weakly. My heart lurched. I could feel exactly where my breakfast was churning in my stomach.

No, no talk of children dying. Not now.

"Awful," James said, shaking his head. "It says all these kids had already lost their parents in the war."

I shuddered involuntarily.

"Are you cold?" he asked, glancing at the thermostat. When I didn't respond, he got up from the table and disappeared into our bedroom. His absence made me more nervous. I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell him.

He came back carrying my bathrobe and wrapped the fluffy fabric around my torso. "So what did you do yesterday?" he asked, settling back into his seat.

This was it. "I had to go to the Healer's," I stated simply.

"Did you catch that cold that's been going around in the office?" he pressed the back of his hand onto my forehead.

"No," I responded, the word fading on my tongue. I took his hand off my forehead and pressed it to my lips.

His brow drew in, and he cocked his head slightly. I felt like I was going to throw up. Here I was, about to explode from anxiety, and he had no idea. Not that it was his fault, it's not like he would have any way to know. But it was just another normal morning for him. Without an explanation, I got up from my chair and headed straight to our bedroom.

I breathed deeply as I paced back and forth across the room, trying to keep myself from hyperventilating.

 _I had been so prepared to break the news_. _I would have, I swear I would have, but what was I supposed to do, with that horrible orphan article hanging freshly over our heads?_

I wanted children with all my heart. I really, really did. But now was not the time. With the death rates climbing, I couldn't afford to go on maternity leave, much less care for an infant.

 _Why had I been so careless?_ I thought as I sped-walked around the bed. I'm nineteen. Nine-teen. Teen. Child.

I heard James' footsteps down the hall, and I regressed back into bed and pulled the covers completely over myself. A few seconds later, I felt a heavy hand shake my shoulder through the thin sheets.

"Lily, what is this?" I heard him say.

I was silent for a couple of moments. "It's a baby," I whispered finally.

"I can't hear you, Lils." he said, still rocking my shoulder to coax me out.

He peeled back the sheets to reveal my face, and I locked eyes with him.

"I'm pregnant."

His hand on my shoulder froze. I pulled the sheets back over my head.

"What?" he asked. He managed to make that one word sound neither happy nor sad.

Curiosity was eating me alive. My eyes peeked out."Is that...okay?"

His face was contemplative, and he was staring at me with his mouth slightly open, his expression full of curiosity and wonder. Finally, he broke out into a grin, and exhaled a shocked breath of air.

" _Preg_ nant," he said, his hands reaching up to clutch fistfuls of his hair. He bowed his head at my stomach, kissing my navel over and over again.

I laughed and sat up, and James enveloped me in a warm, suffocating hug. I buried my face into his neck, unable to stop grinning, and I silently admitted to myself that for the first time in a while, I felt completely and impenetrably safe.

* * *

James came home the next day and immediately threw the newspaper down onto the table. His mouth was in a tight line, and as if in a trance he walked slowly passed the kitchen. I heard our bedroom door slam down the hall.

From the stove, I picked up my wand and charmed my soup ladle to stir the broth for me. I then sped-walked down his route.

Walking to our bedroom, I knocked softly on our door and opened it to see James sitting on the bed with his back to me, facing the window at the opposite end. He was staring emptily at a small crack that ran horizontally across the glass. I sat tentatively beside him.

His eyes were barely shiny, but his brow was rigid. Finally, he spoke.

"I really should fix that," he mumbled hoarsely, gesturing to the windowpane. I picked up his shirt that he had tossed aside and noted how caked with sweat and dirt it was. I lightly fingered the holes in it. It had been freshly pressed when he left for work that morning.

James turned to me for the first time since coming home, and my eyes quickly ran over his body, inspecting for any wounds or bruises. My breath drew in as I noticed a long cut on his left arm. The blood had dried by now, but I withdrew my wand anyway and muttered, "Tergeo."

James looked down at where my wand was pointing, as though he was realizing the slash for the first time. He looked at me. "Did you see the paper today?"

James had thrown down the paper onto the table that evening. I hadn't gotten a chance to see it yet. I shook my head, to which he looked visibly relieved.

I was still concerned. "Why? What happened?"

He started to tell me, but stopped mid-sentence, thinking and rethinking how he should tell me something. "I - I don't want to jump to conclusions..."

Of course, this did nothing but agitate me.

"James," I said firmly, pausing until he looked me in the eye. "Tell me what you know."

Finally, I saw something relent deep inside of him. "The Death Eaters formally declared war today," he said in one breath.

My spine slackened as the words sunk in. All of our efforts, our extra hours, our training to keep this evil contained, and they had still amassed an entire army.

I felt like we were trying to build a dam to keep the ocean out. Except the water is made up of Death Eaters, and the Ministry's stone barriers have holes.

"You know what this means, right?"

His tone caught my attention. Suddenly, realization began to weigh me down. "No," I said disbelievingly, "You're not actually going to..." My eyes darkened.

A week ago, Dumbledore had confided to us that Tom Riddle, one of the most prominent Death Eaters, had taken an interest in James and his abilities. Instead of murdering James on the spot if they encountered him, Riddle had instructed his army to simply apprehend him. How Dumbledore knew this, we don't know, but the Headmaster had later asked James to become part of a specific training team, whose mission was to seek and kill Riddle directly.

James wasn't meeting my gaze. I took that as a yes that he was going to do it.

My eyes widened. "James. You're a target now. You can't personally go after him."

James got up from the bed and began to pace, avoiding eye contact. "I...I have to at least consider it."

I stood up suddenly, "No! It's a death trap!"

He turned to me. "It's a death trap to stretch out this war. If we get rid of Riddle this early on, we'll surely gain the upper hand.

"Weren't you just saying a couple of days ago that someone needs to kill him now?" he asked. His expression was guilty and pleading all at once.

I stiffened. "That was before the circumstances were _different_ ," I said between my teeth. My hand instinctively moved to rest on my stomach as I thought about the baby growing inside of me. "Now we have a kid to live for. Now we have someone counting on us to survive!"

James' tense posture softened slightly. He stepped toward me and rubbed my arms up and down with his hands. Holding my shoulders and not breaking eye contact, he said, "We risk our lives every day so that our baby will be okay. This is what we're doing, see? We're ensuring his or her safety."

My knees felt weak, and I lowered myself into a sitting position on the bed again. Being an Auror was different than a targeting assassin. I put my face in my hands, shaking my head ever so slightly.

"Don't do it," I said, my voice small.

James breathed a fatigued sigh, and sat down with me. "I don't know if I have a choice," he said, his voice equally unsure.

* * *

The next morning, I repressed my selfish urge to not let James go to work as he kissed me goodbye. But I didn't say anything as James, thinking hard, left for the Ministry. He was working six-day weeks to make up for department's lack of able-bodied Aurors.

Everything I thought of for the next ten hours somehow made its way back to what James would tell Dumbledore that day. I went out to sit on our porch twenty minutes before I knew he would be home. When James apparated into view at the front gate, his expression told me everything I needed to know. He had signed himself up to personally get rid of Tom Riddle.

Tears overwhelmed my desire to fight back emotion, and they began freely cooling my burning face. Instead of turning around or wiping them off, I stayed facing James, deliberately showing him what his actions had done to me.

"I told you not to," I said quietly, my voice barely wavering.

James had dark circles under his eyes, and he looked tortured and tired. He closed his eyes and nodded his head slowly as if it was painful.

Suddenly, half of me felt bad for being no source of comfort for him. We were on the same team, after all. Why couldn't I relent at one of the hardest decisions of his life?

I couldn't because of the other "half" of my personality - the stubborn, indignant half that didn't want James anywhere near Tom Riddle.

I felt like I was fighting against myself, but after a few minutes of silence I paced forward and wrapped my arms around James' neck. My stomach was boiling and I couldn't decide whether I wanted to hug him tighter or kill him myself.

" _I told you not to_!" I sobbed again, louder this time, burying my face into his chest. I weakly pounded my fists against his stomach as I breathed deeply in and out in hysterics. My mind was conjuring up worst-case scenarios. "Why did you do that, James?!"

He stayed silent, letting my tears dampen his sweater and my hands jab into his torso. He just hugged me back, letting me release everything I had kept bottled inside me all day.

* * *

 **A/N: School is revving up again and I'm feeling pretty anxious about this upcoming year. Any thoughts on how to survive/reviews on this chapter?**

 **X,**

 **DKMV**


	6. Chapter 6

_My Deer Jily_

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

 _We're not just afraid of our predators. We're transfixed by them, prone to weave stories and fables and chatter endlessly about them, because fascination creates preparedness, and preparedness, survival. In a deeply tribal sense, we love our monsters. -E.O. Wilson_

* * *

At around 3 am, an agitated Alistor Moody appeared at our front door with news of a raid. While James stayed at the door, pressing for details, I hurriedly went back to our bedroom to stumble out of my pajamas and into competent clothes. I was tying my hair up in a ponytail when James entered and retrieved his wand off the night stand. Looking at me in my day clothes, James' eyes immediately widened and he began protesting that I stay at home. Yes, my belly was growing every day, but as of then I was still a fully functional Auror who wasn't about to be persuaded.

We apparated to the Ministry and ascended several flights of stairs to his small, modest office. Alistor Moody's jitteriness was the type to pervade an entire room; when he was nervous, everyone was nervous. James and I stood side by side in front of his desk, while he fumbled around it, looking for something.

"They've crossed the border," Moody said, his papers becoming more a mess. He was always vague. He hadn't even specified what James and I were there for. Finally, he located a folded square of paper underneath a brown lunch pail and spread it out to reveal a map of the country.

"Points of infiltration - here, here, and here," he said tersely, pointing his finger, "I need you two to reinforce the pack of Aurors that were already sent in their direction."

"Who was sent over?" I asked.

"Abbott, Cropper, Summerfield, and Cameron," he replied grimly. He motioned us to follow him back out the door.

With surprising agility, Moody then led us back down the winding steps of the Ministry.

"You shouldn't have come, Lily," James whispered as we paced along.

"James? Please don't," I responded.

At the end of the stairwell, we had just turned left when a sharp, loud voice called our names from the end of the hall. Sirius Black, with wild eyes, was racing over to us like a madman, destroying practically everything in his way.

"Sorry 'bout that!" he yelled over his shoulder as he knocked a stuffed folder out of the hands of a secretary.

Gasping for air, he reached us, "Mate, the Death Eaters are up at Cokeworth now. The Aurors are looking in the wrong spot."

I blanched. Moody growled and zoned in on Sirius, "When was this? What time did you hear this?"

His hands resting on his knees, he sputtered, "I came...as soon as I could...but it's been about ten minutes since I saw 'em..."

Moody pivoted to include James and me, and addressed all three of us, "Get to Cokeworth and search. I'll head to Little Hangleton to retrieve the others. Don't let them see you until we get there."

He twisted, and then was gone.

James nearly suffocated me in a quick embrace, and my body was pulled into itself. When I opened my eyes, I was on the outskirts of Cokeworth. The night's serenity made me intensely uncomfortable. The only thing I could hear was my pulse in my ears.

I drew my wand as the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Turning around, a man completely clothed in black emerged from the dark curb of the street. He had one hand around Sirius' mouth, and his other was pressing the blade of a knife into Sirius' neck.

Sirius helplessly shifted around under the man's grip.

The man raised his eyebrows. "Drop the wand," he said.

"Drop the person," I said, equally emotionless. Sirius' eyes squeezed shut. It was still eerily silent. Both sides were in a stalemate.

I remembered that Moody wasn't far behind with reinforcements. With my index finger I tapped the side of my wand twice, sending wand vibrations to all of the other Aurors with the strongest waves emitting from where I stood. Using a modified form of echolocation, the Aurors would be able to find us.

Still frozen to the spot, I could only hope to wait. That was when I noticed James approaching the man, who was still focused on me, from behind. Raising his wand, James sent red sparks flying toward his back. The man collapsed, and suddenly a wave of flashing spells began to erupt out of the dark as if the black night had been torn by its seams.

They were all directed at us, and we were trapped in the center of a circle. Immediately I dropped to the ground, flattening myself against the icy cobblestones. Death Eaters seemed to leak out of every crevice. After recovering from brief shock, the primitive fight-or-flight response rushed through me and I began anticipating attacks directed at me microseconds before they were cast.

It was 4 a.m., and there were three of us versus dozens of them. But just as the hopelessness of our situation began to root itself in my limbs, I felt a sharp jolt in my abdomen. It might have been a surge of adrenaline, but I chose to believe that the baby inside me was hearing every pessimistic thing I was thinking, and he or she was reminding me why I was fighting the war in the first place. Just like that, I was energized, renewed. I pressed on.

Two of them faced me at once, and as I desperately tried to conjure a spell large enough, a third one came out of my blind spot and forced my arms behind my back. Roughly, my hands were bound in irritating rope. I tried to fight off the ties but they were too strong. And after the man was sure my hands were tightly wrapped, he pinched my butt so hard that tears sprung into my eyes, as if for good measure.

"You know," he whispered, his hot breath on the back of my neck, "I might ask Master Riddle for you after he's done with your friends." My skin prickled.

Both James and Sirius had been overpowered too, and it had taken six men to do so. After circulation-slowing ropes were wrapped around their wrists, one of the Death Eaters who had bound them threw his right arm straight out to the side.

Almost immediately, the other men dropped their wand arms to their sides. Silence pierced the night once again, and it began to ring in my ears.

The Death Eater reached up and removed his hood, revealing a sharp-jawed, bald man. He was grinning creepily, displaying two rows of dull teeth. Lifting up one of his black sleeves, he revealed a writhing tattoo of a two-headed snake with its jaws clamped around a human skull. He touched his finger to it.

Almost immediately, a man apparated into the misty night, as if answering a summoning. He removed his hood, and he took his time in turning around to James, Sirius, and me.

That face, which had been plastered around the Wizarding World for years now, was unmistakable. Tom Marvolo Riddle stood before us.

He had pale, sallow skin with neatly combed black hair. His eyes were beady and contemplative, and he held himself with impeccable posture. There was something wrong in his expression, something bent on destruction. But that's not what made my stomach churn - Tom Riddle wasn't identifiably "evil" at a glance. To me, that was the scariest thing about him - the evilest people looked just like everyone else.

He stood quietly, his unsettling gaze shifting from James to me, memorizing our every feature.

He held up his hand to the Death Eaters. "Why don't you give our friends back their wands," he said, not taking his eyes off us.

His voice was deep but hollow. It seemed to whisper through the air to burrow in its listeners' ears.

The large Death Eater looked like he was about to argue, then changed his mind. Hesitantly, James, Sirius, and I were given our wands back. But we were still bound by ropes.

"Lily and James Potter," he began. It sent a chill down my spine. How did he know my name?

Sirius was diagonal to me, and with the knife he always kept in his pocket I noticed him start to gnaw through his ropes. I telepathically screamed at him to stop. _Sirius_ , I pleaded mentally, _they're going to kill you. Don't try anything._

Sirius didn't receive my message. With one motion, his ropes fell at his back and a quick slash of red flew towards Tom.

Riddle deflected it without so much of a flinch. "It would behoove you," he said, as though he were talking to a rather slow six-year-old, "not to make me angry."

Sirius glared at him, but it was clear he wouldn't try anything else. Riddle continued,

"The propaganda that Albus has been feeding you all these years is false. Wizards and muggles were never intended to...mate."

Oh, God. He had no idea of my muggle lineage.

"What we are trying to accomplish is nothing more than the preservation of our race, and we could use a pair like you. Join me, and you'll see how well we can...clean this place up."

A couple of Death Eaters snorted. Riddle extended his hand.

James took a minuscule step toward him, and I held my breath. As if in slow motion, James sized him up and then promptly spat in his face.

Tom stumbled back, a guttural growl escaping from his throat. He looked like he was fighting back the urge to kill James right there on the spot.

"A thick-headed decision," he said, his thin voice at an elevated pitch, "And when you serve under me, I'll be sure that it's on a bed of nails."

James narrowed his eyes. "No one will ever serve Tom Riddle."

"Perhaps not. But eventually, everyone will serve under Lord Voldemort."

What?

A blinding flash of light grew behind me, and I whipped around to see Moody and the other Aurors apprehending all the Death Eaters in sight. Sirius slashed James restraints and then moved to work on mine. I pulled out my wand and turned back in a second, ready to kill Tom Riddle myself.

But he was gone.


End file.
